All that is gold does not glister
by Sigil Dagger
Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin? AU, yaoi. ABANDONED.
1. Insanity is natural

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling as you very well should know.

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

All gold does not glister 

_Harry:_

I sat on a bench, drawing picture of my client. It was a nice sunny day, some weeks after school had ended. For some reason, never been able to pinpoint it exactly, I haven't ever staid in Hogwarts over summer. Even though Dumbledore has sometimes almost pleaded.

   Shrugging the feeling off I let my hand work on the paper; soft and hard lines building carefully the portrait that would keep my stomach full. My hand didn't stop even when a familiar feeling of a magic-aura passed by and then came slowly back. I knew who it was, and though perhaps I should have been afraid or something, it only made me tense a little.

   "Potter?" he asked and I could heard his surprise from his usually better controlled voice. He stood there his white-blonde hair standing in right order without any… Well, without anything. I wondered idly how did he do it. My own hair was unruly mass of black locks, no matter what I did. Though it wasn't too bad when it was longer, dropping over my shoulders.

   "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" I addressed him, glancing politely to his direction, never letting my hand stop. My client almost moved, almost. My voice was cool, not cold nor warm, rather calm, and simply accepting and stating the fact.

   "Why are you here, Mr. Potter?"

   Ah, ever so polite.

   "As you can see, I'm earning my bread."

   This was not even the worst thing I have done to keep my stomach full. When you don't have a choice you took all the chances you can get. All of them. Even if it means to 'bend over and be quiet'. I've done it, too many times.

   But I loved drawing, so it's not too bad.

   Lucius looked a bit taken aback, from what I could see from the corner of my eye. There was no bitterness in my voice – I guess it really surprised him.

   Last line and the portrait was ready. I showed it to my client, who studied it for a moment, paid me happily and left. Sifting my eyes for the fist time to actually look at Lucius Malfoy, I gathered my things ready to go elsewhere. Besides, I was hungry.

   "Harry?" his soft voice run over me. I tried not to shiver.

   "Yes?" I stated, tilting my head to one side. Hearing my name from his lips was… intimate.

   "May I offer you lunch?"

   "Why of course. All though, I don't understand why you would want to." The look in his face made me to add: "You don't need to explain."

   He studied me for a moment, something like interest flashing quickly in eyes. Too quickly to be analysed properly. Then he nodded and held out a hand, which I took bewildered, helping me to stand up. To confuse me more, he did not let go of my hand, merely placed it to his forearm and led the way. I obeyed silently, amused of my submission. Usually I fought tooth and nail.

   What was with this man suddenly? Though, this was the first time we really met, or he touched me.

   It might be his touch, I mused.

   Now, would Lucius mind if I drew him? He has, after all, interesting features…

   I glanced the elder (A/N: please tell me if I have gotten the wrong idea of the word. I hope it doesn't mean that he is an old man, not just older.) man. He was so much bigger than me, in high and muscularity. I tried to shrug the odd feeling off. But all I got was… I wanted to kiss him.

   Oh, shit.

   "Yes, Harry?" Lucius asked, one elegant eyebrow high.

   Very well done, Harry, very well indeed.

   Oh, shut up all ready.

   "Would you mind if I draw you, Lucius?"

   There. I settle on the best alternative I could get when my mind wanted to do something as intense as kiss.

   I once heard someone say: 'Insanity is natural. Everyone has it.' She said she couldn't remember who had said it, but she agreed with it anyway. I didn't comment anything, but now I think I might just have to.

   I agree.

   The elder Malfoy hasn't yet said anything. Why is it so hard to answer to simple request?

   Yes, this really is my day, is it not?

tbc…

----------

Well, what can I say? It struck me and they insisted. Though, I have no idea where this is leading, except to the bed of course… An, so I have to wait till they get another… err… strike?

   Oi, I'm looking for a co-writer and beta – I dare say I need one. Doesn't need to be one and the same person, but can, if you want. Anyway, if this sounds interesting send my message mail or review.

   (e-mail: sigildager@yahoo.co.uk)

   Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed.

   So I decided to correct the mistakes… Please tell me if my stories has bad ones, and I do something to them in time.


	2. Patience is a virtue

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know.

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

All gold does not glister 

_Lucius:_

I swirled idly a wineglass in my hand while studying the Potter boy.

   A frown crossed shortly my features.

   No. It did not sound right.

   "So, Harry, why are you in the street and not in your relatives gentle care?" I asked him, looking him with hooded eyes.

   Yes. Harry sounded much better. I had, after all, given him my permission to draw me, as long as he showed me the pictures.

   "Gentle care?" His voice avoided all emotions. Then he laughed. It was a rough laugh, and told quite much about what he had been through.

   The laugher made me almost shiver. No child should ever have been through whatever he had gone through. He was fifteen – or could he be sixteen? I do not know his birthday – as was my son Draco. And what I had heard of him from my son, who was in the same House with him, the Slytherin, Harry was dark, though not by any means evil, he was recluse mostly, still had company. Studier, but not a bookworm. There was something about him… I could not reach it, but it was that something that had made me offer him the lunch we had already eaten.

   I wanted to ask him about his relatives, but for the time being, I had no words. Which was quite an unordinary situation. So I simply waited.

   Patience is a virtue, after all.

   "I'm in the street simply because it's easier live there, when you know where you really stand and you don't always have to try and please someone who beats you if you give even glint of a reason."

   Only the fact that my mask was part of my, kept my shock under control.

   They beat him?

   "How long?" I heard myself asking, oddly hoarsely. Why did I care?

   Jade green eyes turned to me, inquiring.

   "How long have they… beaten you?"

   Harry tilted his head. The manner was fascinating. "As long as I can remember. Though it got worse after I got my letter from Hogwarts. It was the first summer that I fled, or to be exact, I never went back."

   "Dumbledore does not know."

   "No. And you don't tell him either." He held my gaze, till I nodded.

   "Very well, if that is what you wish."

   "Yes. Thank you", he said, giving one of his brilliant smiles. I found I could not hold back my own smile.

   The young man started drawing again, leaving me free liberty to watch him. He kept his gaze mostly in me, his delicate hand working on its own. Long fingers. Such as an artist, yet meant to touch. Slender arms, tender looking tanned skin. Amazing eyes.

   He did have glasses once, did he not? Clumsy and ugly things they were if my memory served me right. I supposed he had gotten his eyes corrected.

    Long and pushy eyes lashes. Cute nose, I could not describe it otherwise. Determinate chin. Slightly pout lips.

   He was sharp and soft, all at the same time. How did he do it?

   It would be pleasure to make him surrender.

tbc…

----------

Answered your questions?

   Thanks for reviews. It was interesting to find that some thought I don't need a beta (too badly) and the others that I most definitely should get one. *amused grin* I have to second the latter.

   Sorry about last format, I was merely trying one thing, and it didn't work. Which I found highly annoying. *mutters something under her breath*

   And the usual part of my whining:

   Oi, I'm (still) looking for a co-writer and beta – I dare say I need one. Doesn't need to be one and the same person, but can, if you want. Anyway, if this sounds interesting send my message mail or review.

   (E-mail: sigildager@yahoo.co.uk)

   Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form…

   *mutters incorrectly something about using word meat instead of met and lets her head fall onto the table with a loud thump* Beta-reader, please?


	3. the rent and the flobberworm

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know.

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

All gold does not glister 

_Harry:_

"You two haven't paid your rent", a cold voice told me, when Anna and I stepped inside the corridor. The man's little pig eyes stared Anna, the young Japanese girl who I take care of to the best of my abilities– which really wasn't that much to be honest.

   ~ Oh shit. The rent, we don't have the money. Think, Harry, think. ~

   "Mr. Enfoild, I'm sorry, we'll pay you, I promise. The thing is that right know we are… unable." I made a quick count. We didn't have even quarter of the rent. Great. "Listen, give us time till Friday and we'll get you the money…"

   "Or…" our landlord started, interrupting me. "We could make… an arrangement."

   My heart dropped. This wasn't good, at all.

   Especially when his eyes roamed hungrily over Anna. She was thirteen years old, for Merlin's sake!

   ~ Think! ~

   "If you would do something for me, I might… reconsider your rent payment this month."

   I pushed my panic aside and did the only thing I could think of: I stepped closer to him, gathering everything I had learned in the street about seducing your client. Lazily I laid a hand on his chest, sliding it upwards, rubbing in a way that told him exactly what I had on my mind.

   "I believe I might just be able to do that… Mr... Enfoild." I kept my voice low and breathy, my eyes cast downwards, while pressing my body to his in a way that hinted how far I was willing to go to get the rent paid. The key was 'almost, but not quite, it will drive them crazy and they'll most likely pay you more… if you're good enough'.

   His breathing had quickened.

   ~ Please, let this work. Even if he doesn't 'reconsider' our rent. I just need to get him away from Anna. ~

   "Perhaps we should take this business to more… private location, don't you think?"

   I let him take me to his chambers, my mind already going elsewhere. It didn't matter because my body knew very well what was being asked from it. After all, one couldn't whore in the street for years and then just forget it. Though I tried.

   I just hoped he wouldn't be too rough…

***

Anna:

The waiting was always the worst part. Even if you were use to waiting, it was always hard.

   I hated waiting.

   Hopefully that bastard wouldn't hurt Harry. Still, I was thankful it wasn't me there. I never had had to sell my body, thanks to Harry, who had picked me from the street and taken me under his wing during the summer.

   He had taken me in, even though he hardly had enough money for himself. He drew and painted, sometimes sold his body and I played guitar and sang. Sometimes Harry danced while I played, it usually drew more attention, and of course more money.

   "That idiotic, imbecilic, brainless, oversized flobberworm…" Harry slammed the door shut, while continuing his cursing… hissing in Parseltongue. Then he continued his litany in Japanese.

   "Aren't you a bit colourful, Mr. Potter?" I asked him in playful tone, interrupting him before he used language that would make *me* blush, and to distract him.

   He inhaled deeply few times. "Hardly. He said he'd forgive half of the rent, but next time we better be in time, or it is you who will '*do something* for him' or we're both out. Anyway, he'll wait till Friday for this month's rent."

   I nodded, numb.

   "It went better than I expected", Harry told me, rubbing his face with a tired hand. I saw him wince slightly. So, our dear landlord hadn't been gentle. I just hoped it wasn't anything serious.

   "I need a shower." And with that my green-eyed, dark angel walked to the small bathroom.

   The way he walked…

   Baka.

   He would be covered up with bruises in the morning.

tbc…

----------

   Thanks for reviews.

   Special thanks to my beta Df and Fyre, who gave us much to think about. *beams*

   Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form…


	4. I claim obsession

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. Though, Anna and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my betas.

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

All gold does not glister 

_Lucius:_

"What is this?" I asked when I noticed the bruises on Harry's face and shoulders. I was able to see them easily because of the sleeveless shirt he was wearing.

   I had argued with myself for two days whether or not to go and try to find the black haired young man again. I lost the argument. And I claim obsession. Though, insanity also sounds rather fine.

   "What?" The small youth looked confused.

    I touched the bruise on his face gently. "This," I repeated while watching his reaction attentively.

   Jade green eyes darkened a few shades; they went almost black. They reminded me of Severus' eyes, so cold. Their green fire suppressed behind a wall of impenetrable ice.

   "My life. Well, a part of my life." Harry answered and the wall grew thicker.

   "Meaning?" I did not take my hand away from his cheek. The skin was smooth, though a bit warmer by the bruise. I noticed that Harry did not do anything to get away from my touch. Yet, he was growing tenser by the second.

   "Meaning, it happens sometimes, when I can't avoid it." His voice was quiet, soft, as if he was only stating a fact. I could not understand how he was able to just accept things like that.

   My thumb rubbed light circles across his skin. He had stopped drawing as soon as I had touched his abused, tender cheek. It was the first time anything I did had made him stop his all consuming sketching. I watched as he leaned into my touch unconsciously, his eyelids lowering and blocking that green fire-ice. Maybe it wasn't unconsciously. He was a street child after all. I would have to remember that. Street children know how to play even the best.

   "Who?" I kept my voice just above whisper. He closed his eyes and was quiet for a while. I did not repeat my question; I knew he had heard me.

   "My landlord."

   I said nothing.

   "Our rent was... is late. We made a deal. I still have some time."

   "What kind of a deal?" It did not really matter, I had already made my decision: I would take him way from there and away from the street. I have never liked someone else touching my prey, in any way, and certainly not in the way the boy was implying. Perhaps I should have been more careful; he already had captured me, intentionally or not.

   Harry withdrew from my touch, not far but enough for it to end. I was not going to let him get away, but I saw he was not going anywhere. He just needed a little space. I can be patient when I want to be. So, I waited.

   "I gave him what he wanted, well sort of, and he forgave us half of our rent. And he gave some extra time to pay the rest."

   I processed the information. So, this landlord had beaten him as part of their rent... I had missed something. Taking a closer look of the boy's bruises I realized what had gone without a notice earlier. Some were teeth marks, the kind left by a lover when they were rough. Though, these were a bit too brutal to be left by lover...

   Ah, so that was what he meant by saying he had given his landlord what he wanted. That also explained why he sat on his knees. But what about Harry's comment 'sort of'? It did not make any sense. There was more to the story. What else had the man desired that Harry had not given?

   "Why did you sleep with him, if that was not what he wanted?"

   Harry hesitated a moment. He cocked his head to the side and studied me silently for a long moment. He reminded me of a wild animal trying to decide if it could trust the strange human holding out its hand. When he spoke it was with decision. So the human could be trusted after all...

   "It wasn't me who he really wanted. But I couldn't let him rape Anna, because that's what it would have been for her. I don't want her to end up as a whore."

   "So you decided to do it yourself? Are you sure you should not have been into Gryffindor?" I asked only half in jest.

   "The Sorting Hat considered it, before Ravenclaw and Slytherin", he answered, amused, before continuing seriously: "But I'm already a whore, so it doesn't really matter."

   One of my eyebrows shot up despite my attempts at restraining it.

   Harry only shrugged in response.

***

_it is midnight_

_and I see no reason to continue_

_the moon laughs at me_

_smirking indifferently_

***

_Harry:_

I stared out of a window, not really seeing the landscape. This wasn't anything new. I seemed to do it time and again nowadays. A few days ago Lucius had again taken me to lunch, and I had enjoyed it even though I had had no idea why he bothered with me. Who was I to tell him not to? I had no intentions to say no to free food. Especially, not as good as Lucius always treated.

   I hadn't been sure what he had wanted from me then. I had known he wanted something, but I really couldn't say what; he was too good at hiding things. Though, judging by his touch, I would have said he wanted sex. The problem was that as good as I could be at knowing how to get a client, I wasn't that good at reading people more generally.

   And Lucius had sent very mixed signals - he still did. The only thing that I really was sure of was that he wanted something from me.

   The next problem was just as complex: part of me couldn't believe that Lucius could hurt me in any way. What was I suppose to make out of that? He was a Death Eater for crying out loud. You know, one of those people who served the Dark Lord Voldemort, who so happened to want me dead. (Mostly, because I wouldn't join him.) So excuse me if I had some problems with my instincts that apparently had gone utterly insane.

   But wait! That wasn't all. For some reason, I had let Lucius drag me to his apartment in muggle London. He had said he wouldn't let me stay where I had been, in my cheap apartment that I had shared with Anna and another guy. After a huge argument, Lucius let me take Anna with me. I had told him he could forget the whole thing if I had to leave her behind; after all, she was like a little sister to me.

   So, here I was, in his apartment. Waiting. Waiting for him to come and claim his prey.

   Yes, I finally figured out that I was what he wanted. Though, I wasn't sure if he knew that it wasn't only my body he wanted. Well, it really wasn't my problem. He'd understand it sooner or later.

   And I didn't mean he'd want my heart. What would he do with it? Grill and eat it perhaps, maybe in a light butter sauce?

   No. He didn't want my heart. But he still wanted more than just my body.

   And no, I didn't pay my 'rent' by whoring to him. A Malfoy wouldn't touch a whore even with a long stick - though technically that was already proven wrong. He got the best of my works, drawings, paintings and so on. Actually he didn't want me to pay in any way, because he wanted me as his lover, and as his lover I would have the right to have the apartment that he paid for, my clothes, my food and everything else I could want.

   But I wasn't his lover, yet. So, I had told him I would pay, but not with my body.

   He had agreed.

   Lucius knew what battles to let go and which to fight. Good for him. He would most likely need it.

   I haven't ever been easy, as some people seem to think. I haven't ever understood from where they had gotten the idea.

   A hand on my shoulder wakened me from my thoughts.

   Only one person could come this close to me without my street instincts kicking in, and hard.

   "Lucius", I said his name quietly, leaning against his taller build as he came closer. A hand snaked to my waist as the other wrapped itself across my chest.

   "My raven", he answered just as quietly, but very possessively.

   "Why do you call me that?" I asked, curious. It was one of my Animagusforms, but he couldn't know that.

   "You are like a raven; free and wild, furious, and protective when needed," Lucius stated seriously. "And your voice is just as bad when you sing", he added. Even though there was no mirth in his voice, I could still sense it. He wasn't as humourless as he claimed to be.

   I laughed.

   "So, you think I am funny, do you?" he grabbed my chin and turned my head towards him.

   I still couldn't stop laughing, though I knew I was walking on thin ice. Lucius didn't like being laughed at. I tried to shake my head, I wasn't laughing *_at_* him, but I found it impossible as the older man pressed his lips against mine. And not too gently.

   I tensed, and fought against the rising panic. I knew Lucius wouldn't hurt me, not like the others, but still... the instinct to run gripped me.

   Lucius lightened the kiss and started stroking my cheek almost soothingly. Soon I melted to his touch, and gave him access when he demanded it with his tongue. I pushed the panic to the back of my mind. The past did not matter.

   So very slowly the man holding me moved.

   And the kiss seemed to last forever.

   Just as I thought that was all Lucius was going to do, to kiss me until I died of the heady-unknown feeling, his hands moved. The one that had been stroking my cheek ran silently and quickly down my neck and settled around the back of my head. The other one... it travelled lower. He gently started to rub at my cloths. He had asked me to wear robes, and now I knew why. His hand gathered the fabric and bunched it. The lose garment gave him instant access to... well to everything.

   He let go of my neck as I grabbed him. I wouldn't let him break the kiss. He couldn't break it. The hands, the cloths, the sex... I had had that before. Never had I had the kisses. A whore doesn't kiss, if it can be avoided. Kissing is something too personal to be sold.

   I kept my eyes closed. I didn't want to look up and see my landlord or even worse, some street punk. I had to be dreaming. What could Lucius Malfoy see in me? I was nothing. Just a lousy half-blood whore, just Harry.

   But I did open my eyes when he stopped and pulled forcibly back. I opened them and saw his eyes. The one feature Lucius Malfoy had that he couldn't control fully. They burned, those silver eyes. They burned and they demanded and they pleaded. He didn't want my body or my loyalty. He wanted something even he did not realise yet, my soul. I was willing to give it to him if he'd only look at me like that again. It was pure possession and jealously and... it was everything.

   He just kept gazing down at me. He didn't say a word as he gently opened the bunched robes and pushed the fabric to the sides. He didn't utter a sound as he traced the scars on my torso. He bent to kiss me again and I rose to meet him.

   Suddenly, it all came crashing to a halt.

   Lucius crumbled over in pain, grabbing his left arm. It took me a moment to understand, but when it dawned on me why, I remembered where I was, whom I was with.

   The Malfoy patriarch moaned and then cursed. He turned his back to me and got off the bed.

   When had we made it to the bed? I didn't remember the trip...

   He stumbled towards the fireplace and collapsed half way there. Just as he fell to the ground my scar flared. I managed to strangle my scream and let out only a startled hiss of pain. The small sound I had made caused Lucius to turn to me. I felt a trickle of blood run down my forehead and saw Lucius' eyes grew large.

   "You should go. He's very angry about something", I managed to hiss through the pain. Lucius looked at me disbelieving. "Be careful. And whatever you do, don't interrupt him again. After all this time you should have figured out that he doesn't like things like that."

   Lucius took a sharp breath as he fumbled for floopowder. "How did you know about my interrupting him at the last gathering?"

   I shook my head, "I'll tell you later. Just be careful."

   I had seen the last Death Eater meeting. Lucius had tried to correct Voldemort about the number of new recruits to be initiated in a month. Voldemort had kept him under Cruciatus for nearly three minutes. At the time, I had wondered how anyone remained sane after such a treatment. Of course, I hadn't felt much attachment to Lucius then. I hoped he would not end up under the curse again. Now that I had some knowledge of him, I couldn't bear the thought of him wreathing in agony.

   Lucius seemed to except my evasion. He nodded and disappeared in the now green flames.

   Why hadn't he left immediately to the meeting instead of flooing to the Malfoy Manor? Oh, yes, he didn't have his Death Eater robes. I'd have to tell him to leave a set here...

   Merlin; I was loosing my mind. Lucius would turn me over to Voldemort and that would be the end of it. Only, I knew he wouldn't. Malfoy's don't double cross people they have given their word to protect. At least not knowingly.

   I shuddered as another wave of anger and hatred flowed across my link to the Dark Lord. Oh, he wasn't pleased about something.

   I must have screamed because Anna came running in. I think she pulled a sheet off my bed and wrapped me in it. I really don't remember anything until a few hours later when I woke up, bloody and in a panic.

   Not the best way to wake up if you ask me.

tbc...

----------

   Thanks for reviews.

   Special thanks to my betas Saavik and Df.

   Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	5. tea party with the dead

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. Though, Anna and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my betas/co-writers.

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

All gold does not glister 

Voldemort sat in his thrown like chair glaring out at the assembly. His anger radiated off of his emaciated form like title waves. His left hand, his wand arm, tapped out a complicated pattern on the arm rest as he watched the room slowly fill with his most faithful followers, his Inner Circle.

   At his feet rested a bloody corpse. It had once been a very ugly woman. He looked down at it distractedly. The horse-faced bint had not been helpful. Nor had her whale of a son or her pig of a husband. Damn Muggles.

   The last of the Death Eaters Apparated in: Lucius Malfoy. Last again. Voldemort frowned and let his wand drop from his sleeve into his hand. The last one always felt his ire. He watched as the blond shrunk slightly, anticipating the curse, when a pop sounded in the back of the room. Voldemort turned and drew back slightly in surprise. Snape and the younger Malfoy had come together, and neither in their robes. A quick Cruciatus had both of them screaming. He didn't hold the curse long. There were more important matters than punctuality and dress code to discuss. He would question them later.

   "Which one of you would care to explain what happened tonight?" Voldemort hissed as he stood up and kicked the body of Petunia Dursley down the steps of the dais. "I sent out a contingent to finally retrieve the Potter boy and all I get is this ugly dead Muggle?" He swivelled and glared at Lucius. "You were the one to finally get me the boy's address just two days ago. Why wasn't he there?"

   "I do not know my lord. My informers assured me it was the Potter boy's family residence", Lucius murmured quietly, eyes on the floor and shoulders locked in confusion.

   "Oh, it was his family alright. Three poor excuses for sentient life forms lived there. But no Potter. I want to know why." Voldemort moved past the elder Malfoy and rounded on Avery.

   "You. You lead the team. Was there any sign of the boy?"

   Avery shook so hard his teeth rattled. "No... no my lord. There wasn't even a picture of him or his mother. It was as if the Muggle woman had no sister or nephew."

   Voldemort snorted. "That bloody old fool must have cleared him out. Somehow, he got wind of our plan. Snape, Draco, report."

   The two latecomers painfully rose to their feet. Draco and Lucius made eye contact for a moment. Draco took in his father's hastily donned robes and asked a silent question. Lucius made a small negative nod and Draco narrowed his eyes.

   "My lord," Snape started, "Dumbledore had no idea Potter was gone from Private Drive. Your attack set off the wards and the Headmaster called in the Order. I was one of the first members to arrive, just as Avery was Apparating out. No one appears to know where Potter is."

   "Impossible! And why did you not deliver his whereabouts yourself? Why did I have to wait for Lucius to steal Ministry files?"

   Snape didn't even blink. "Dumbledore is not as foolish as he appears. He does not entirely trust anyone. No one but him and the boy knew about the Dursleys until your attack. The old man is still trying to figure out how you found out. There were not supposed to be any ministry files _to_ steal."

   "There obviously were or Lucius could not have delivered the address into my hands! I will not forget your failure, Snape." The Dark Lord rounded on the younger Malfoy. "And you Draco, can you explain your arrival and state? Severus has an excellent excuse if he was on Order business when I summoned. Where were you?"

   Draco hesitated a moment before bowing and answering. "I was with Professor Snape, my lord. When the wards at Private Drive went of the Professor and I were in the dungeons at Hogwarts researching the potion you wished brewed for the meeting next week. The headmaster was so worried about Potter he grabbed me up for the 'search and rescue' mission along with the Professor. I thought it best to go along in case I could assist your cause."

   "The idiot trusts you?"

   "No. He was rounding up everyone in the castle. He was panicking." Draco grinned. "It was a most amusing sight, my lord. I thought for a moment he was going to have a heart attack. When we arrived with the Order at Private Drive, after taking a blind port key, we saw the group sent for Potter Apparate away. When the Order failed to find Potter, or any sign of him, the old fool started to go completely nuts. When Severus' mark burned he made an excuse of a potion brewing and we made it a safe distance away before answering. I was almost revealed."

   "Does the old man know your bear my Mark?"

   Severus cut in. "He suspects Draco of having pledged his loyalty to you. But typical of the old Gryffindor, he is unwilling to write him off. He asked Draco to accompany the Order in the hopes the boy would," Snape sneered, "See your atrocities and have a change of heart. Our abrupt departure, together, and under flimsily pretences will most likely tip him off. If he does not already know Draco has the Mark, he will shortly." Snape hesitated. "If you wish for me to remain at least partially trusted, I will have to tell him before he asks."

   Voldemort sighed. "Not only did you fail to bring me Potter, but now I will have to lose another informant in Hogwarts. Tell the bastard about Draco then. Just make sure he doesn't harm the boy." Voldemort looked at Draco. "He has promise."

   "Yes my lord. Dumbledore will not harm a child under his care. But he will likely restrict Draco's movements and make sure he is kept away from students that might yet be made to 'see the light'."

   "And I will lose a valuable recruiter." Voldemort sat back down in his thrown and glared and anything that moved. "This has been the largest disaster since Potter's mother managed whatever little spell she cast before my absence. I will not let it repeat."

   The Death Eaters collectively tensed.

   "Avery, you not only failed to bring me Potter, you compromised Draco and potentially Severus."

   Sweat appeared on the man's brow as he quaked under the Dark Lord's displeasure.

   "Crucio." Avery screamed and fell to the ground. Without rising, Voldemort held the curse until blood ran out from the Death Eater's ears and his screams turned to strangled gurgles. He continued to impassively hold the curse until the body stopped twitching.

   "Macnair, dispose of this." Voldemort waved distractedly at the body then looked back at Severus and Draco. "You two will have to do what you can to salvage the situation with Dumbledore. Severus, you are to maintain your position in the Order no matter the cost. Draco, follow your professor's lead in this. You are expendable. At this point in time, he is not. I'd rather not lose either of you, but you understand."

   "Yes my lord", Draco responded without hesitation.

   "Ah, you have potential indeed child." Voldemort turned to Lucius. "Your ministry sources thought Potter was there?"

   "Yes my lord."

   "As did Dumbledore?" Voldemort looked back at Snape.

   "Yes my lord."

   "Then it would seem our little Slytherin has outwitted the Gryffindors. The question is why? What would cause him to run, presumably some time ago? And if he did run, why not go straight to the blasted Order? Where could the little miscreant be?"

   "He is a Slytherin, my lord. If he is hiding, it might be hard to determine where. From the state of the house, I would say he has been gone for several years. I would hazard a guess that he never went back after he left for Hogwarts. If he has been spending every summer on the run, he would be quite good at it by now. Chances are he's in the Muggle world and not the Wizarding. His fame would make it impossible to hide in a Wizarding community. As such, it will be harder for us to find him. Not many of us have any experience with the way the filth live in the Muggle world." Snape again sneered.

   "True. Damn the boy", Voldemort snarled and randomly threw a curse into the crowd. A long scream met his ears and he smiled eerily. "I want his screams in my ears, Severus. I want his body at my feet and not his aunts. Will you see to it?"

   Severus raised an eyebrow slightly. "If you wish, my lord."

   Voldemort turned and looked at him. "No, no you are too busy." His eyes scanned the crowd. "Lucius. You brought me his address in the first place. You will take Avery's place and lead the Potter taskforce. Do not fail me. I need the boy by winter solstice or our grand mission will be set back by at least a decade. Do you understand?"

   "Yes my lord. It is a great honour. I will not fail you."

   "See that you don't, Lucius. I've not had the greatest faith in you of late. This is your last chance to prove yourself.  I would hate to have to prematurely promote your son."

   The blond nodded.

    "Now all of you leave. I'm sick of seeing your sorry hides. Why I ever bothered in the first place? What good are incompetent henchmen?" Voldemort rubbed his eyes. "I'm surrounded by idiots." He looked back up. "What are you waiting for?! Get out! Find me Potter!"

   The hall cleared instantly.

   Voldemort looked around the empty room until his eyes landed on Petunia Dursley. She looked nothing like her sister.

   "My dear, what do you think?"

   The corpse didn't respond.

   "That's what I thought. He'll fail and I'll have to kill him." The Dark Lord smiled ruefully. "Which is good in it's own way. Avery was the same. They both had aspirations. Dangerous aspirations. And they both had support among the ranks."

   Voldemort levitated the body up to sit next to him.

   "You see, my dear, the strategy is simple. If one of your underlings starts to think they might like your job, you give them an impossible task. When they fail and are humiliated in front of their would-be-cohorts, you kill them. Thus you set an example and get rid of the competition."

   Voldemort petted the bloody-matted hair. "Yes, it is brilliant isn't it?" He smiled. "Would you like to hear more? Yes? Well come with me and I'll have tea set out. It's been a while since I had a dinner guest..." Voldemort walked out of the room with Petunia's dead body floating beside him. "...I do so miss the conversations."

tbc...

----------

   Thanks for reviews.

   This chapter was written by Saavik. What a wicked piece of art she made. See my profile for a link to her profile.

   Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	6. Slytherin, an art

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. Though, Anna and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my betas/co-writers.

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

All gold does not glister

_Lucius:_

Life rarely is what you wish of it, I noticed again as I watched the green-eyed devil I had taken in to my apartment. He looked tired. But how could he have gotten himself to a state like that in a matter of half an hour?

Just as I was about to inquire him, he turned towards me, staring with masked eyes. "So, why did you tell him?"

I blinked. "Pardon?"

"Why did you tell Voldemort about the Dursleys?"

"How d-?" I cut myself off with a snap of my jaw. How could he get me to slip that way, when even the Dark Lord had no such effect on me? He was just a boy!

"How did I know? I told you, I see him, hear him and everything that goes on around him. So, why the Dursleys?" he said almost forcefully, his soft voice hoarse as if he had screamed his throat raw.

I walked across the room and sat into an armchair, gazing at Harry coldly. "I had my reasons."

"Ah, revenge, then", the boy nodded, sinking further into the sofa. He, somehow, managed to look so very young, yet old.

"I have to say, I'm a bit surprised, Lucius. I wouldn't have thought..." he trailed off. "I'm not sure if I should be moved, disgusted or something entirely different."

"What happened to your voice?" I asked, wanting to change the subject, and oddly enough being actually worried.

"Ah, screaming", he replied vaguely.

"Harry", I growled the warning.

"I feel every curse /he/ castes when I'm trapped in a vision."

I leaned back in thought.

"You don't have much time. He is going to kill you when you fail to bring me to him", Harry stated calmly.

Staring at him, I could see he had already thought of something – had a plan of some sort. I raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly.

The boy wrapped the sheet around him tighter.

"What would it take to persuade you to side against Voldemort?"

I pondered the question. He was indeed a Slytherin. He would say something, but leave the most important part, the true message, un-stated. It was subtle, an art. An art I had once thought impossible for one so young.

"With Dumbledore and the Light side?" I asked sarcastically, testing the waters.

"No. With me, on a side that would get rid of the madman. Though, Dumbledore might be of help." The jade green eyes stared at me determined.

"What about the Death Eaters? Would you want to be rid of them as well?"

He studied me for some time. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. Technically, they aren't my problem."

"They would want to revenge their Master's death."

"Oh, you're probably right. But if they found themselves reasonably occupied…" he stated somewhat slyly. "Like making sure Muggles would not become a danger to the Wizarding World, breeding more pure-blooded children and going on with the ideas Voldemort promised, but in a more subtle and less destructive way."

Absently I noted amusement in his voice.

"And they would go about that, why exactly and how? They must be controlled. How do you propose to keep them on task?" I inquired unemotionally.

"With the right leader of course", Harry replied, serious.

"Of course."

tbc...

----------

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.

Sorry for not updating. What can I say? I got a writers block... still have, more or less. And the Real Life can be a bitch sometimes, hit me on the back with my mistakes. I try to write more often, but we'll see.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...

# And now to the facts that someone asked about:

- It is Harry fifth year summer. (If I haven't forgotten something by now...)

- The money issue will come up later on, be patient.

- I would be surprised if you would know where this was going, as I have yet to find out. But please, tell if you get it figured out... ;)

- And Anna's back-story? Wait and see. Though, she's not a muggle.

Sigil Dagger


	7. Open your eyes, Raven

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. Though, Anna and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my beta/co-writer.

Author: Sigil Dagger, (co-writer and beta-reader) Saavik13

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

**All gold does not glister**

_Harry:_

Lucius didn't say anything about my proposal right away. He was too Slytherin for that. He wanted to digest my meaning. I was offering him the Death Eaters. We'd take out Voldemort and then Lucius could rule. It had to be tempting. But he also had to be reminding himself it was a child telling him these things. A child he'd pulled from the streets. A child he'd come home to find curled into a sobbing ball in the middle of a bed with a young girl watching from the corner.

Anna had sat vigil in my room till Lucius had come back and glared her out. She'd padded softly away, glancing back at me with big black eyes, asking if I wanted her to stay. My silence made her hesitate until I slowly nodded and she'd slipped out like a ghost. My Anna. The best pickpocket, cat burglar, and turtledove to live, and my only friend.

Lucius was silent for a long time after we talked. He kept glancing at me sideways, trying to see if I could live up to my unsaid promises. Eventually, he came up beside me and I felt his hands slowly move to the bottom of my newly dawned robes again. I shivered. So he wanted to start where we had been interrupted. I'd been too caught up in it before to think. I'd had far to long to think now.

That first time Lucius fucked me was, well, an eye-opener of sorts. I had liked it when he kissed me. A lot. His mouth almost devoured me whole, leaving me breathless and for the first time, actually arching for more. It helped that Lucius was the first person to kiss me.

But when he actually took me, it was different. That I already knew. Keeping myself there enough for him, that was hard. I was used to drifting away, not really being there. My body yes, my mind never. But Lucius didn't want that, he worked against that. He wanted me there, painfully aware of it all. So I learned how to answer to him, how aggressive he wanted me to be and how submissive. To my surprise, he rarely wanted my absolute submission, as others had. He wanted something nobody else had ever considered of value.

And the way he touched my body, gently, and while not actually interested in my pleasure he still made sure that I enjoyed it too.

I was amazed when I realised that he wanted me, my body, and not just any body he could have had. I mean, usually my clients think about me as just a body to use for their needs, most not really thinking or caring just whose body it was, that it was MY body. For him it wasn't just a warm place to stick something.

As he prepared me, other hand wondering around touching and caressing, his gaze kept me captive. I was speechless. I couldn't remember anyone taking the time and preparing me for them by themselves. It was an odd feeling, his fingers inside my opening, scissoring and stretching, HIS fingers filling me.

I must have had a strange look on my face as he asked me if something was wrong.

Staring at him helplessly, I stuttered: "Nobody has ever... Just myself... when I had time or warning." My cheeks burned for some reason.

Lucius just hhmm-ed, so I supposed he understood what I had tried to say, and smiled wickedly, his fingers brushing over my prostate.

Gasping at the warmth spreading all over me, I pushed back, not controlling my body anymore. It felt so good. So nice... And I realised, this feeling must be the reason why people had sex. This warmth, this passion. And how I loved the kisses he showered on me the entire time. I thought of nothing else as my blond master devoured my mouth.

For the first time I gave into the feeling, keeping nothing back. I let myself feel what was happening, to respond to it beyond the minimal shift or small noise. I let myself be _there_.

I panicked for a moment when I realised he wanted to take me from front, watching me. He would see my face! I would have to be careful to not to show when I didn't like what he was doing! All the while he arranged me to my position: my legs spread and bent up at the knee, him looming over me.

Luckily Lucius decided that moment was the perfect opportunity to try and suck out my lungs. Or perhaps he was trying to taste what I had had for lunch? Then he started to enter my body.

I felt my eyes widening impossibly. I was no virgin but he was simply huge! And I just, for some reason it was scary to be with him. To have him watching me. I was so happy here and this could make it all go away.

"Hush, my Raven", he muttered, more gently that I would have expected of him. It was probably a good thing that he had had me aroused as much he had, since it was quite likely the only thing that prevented my escape. Or trying, for that matter. Not that I would have gotten anywhere.

It hurt. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I relaxed my body as much as I was able to. The burning sensation lessened. Finally he was fully inside me.

Then he did the oddest thing. He kissed both of my still closed eyelids. I opened them and gazed up at him, with eyes half lidded. He had an unreadable expression in his stormy eyes.

How odd. Sometimes he felt so cold, and then he did things like that... So confusing.

He moved then, and I forgot about analysing his personality. Wrapping my legs around him and holding to the headboard so as not to get squeezed against it, as his strong, powerful thrusts pushed me towards it.

I felt I had finally found home. As corny as it might sound. This wasn't sex. At least not what I'd ever thought of sex as. Sex was dirty. Sex was secretive. Sex was animalistic, and painful, and one-sided. This was different. This was like, like, I didn't know what it was like. It was Lucius, inside me, Lucius in front of me. Lucius. For some reason it was real.

tbc...

----------

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.


	8. Malfoy to the core

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. Though, Anna and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my beta/co-writer.

Author: Sigil Dagger, (co-writer and beta-reader) Saavik13

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

----------

**All gold does not glister**

_Lucius:_

I watched Harry sleep for some time. The boy had been tense through the whole experience. In reality, I should have waited longer to take him. But I've never been good at denying myself and after the horrid meeting, I needed a distraction. I believe we both did. So I provided one. It really was an altruistic act.

So was giving Voldemort the Dursleys' address. Someone needed to make the despicable life-forms pay and that was as good a choice as any. I moved up in favour, they died horribly. A true win-win situation if I ever orchestrated one. And I had. Quite often.

Harry mumbled something and rolled over and away from me. His small body curling in on itself. I reached a hand out to touch him and he whimpered, curling tighter. I sighed. He was nowhere near an ideal lover. He was skittish at best. But he was different. His magic almost burned. His offer to help me take over the Death Eaters had not been idle, I could sense that. And I had thought of such a thing myself, more than once. It might work. Great rewards were paved with large risks. I understood that, but did Harry? Did the boy realise that he was tying himself to the new Dark Lord should he make good on his promise?

I got up slowly and left him to slumber without my constant presence. As soon as I was across the room he relaxed slightly. I shook my head. I would have to work with him on that. I knew my physical proximity was comforting to him when awake. But I could surmise that his sleeping mind was too defensive to feel comfortable with /anyone/ near.

I found the young Japanese girl sitting and glaring at the bedroom door as I exited. She looked at me with large accusing eyes, the only kind I ever saw on her face.

"Did you hurt him?"

For someone living by my shear charity, the whelp could at least dredge up some respect. I sneered down at her and she didn't even flinch. She was most likely used to intimidation tactics from stronger people than her. Draco had stopped flinching at mine or Severus' dark looks at six-years-old, too used to it to react if it was nothing but a warning and able to tell when it was a threat.

"No." I moved past her down the hall. I had more important things to attend to than making small children cower in fear. She'd learn that lesson in good time. And out of my Raven's hearing if need be.

"You had better not."

I turned to find her still sitting there, glaring at me. I doubled my sneer and kept up down the hall. The bint wasn't worth my consideration. I let her live simply because it made Harry happy. She was but a muggle – though there was something odd about her that kept nagging at me from time to time. Regardless, she was not worth loosing a chance at something larger – Harry being only a part of that goal.

I went back to the Manor and straight to my liquor cabinet. I'd left my Death Eater robes on the floor of Harry's closet. I downed a glass of port hurriedly and then moved to shuffle through my paperwork. I had an extra set of the black robes here in the Manor. It would be a good idea to leave one in London as well. Harry wouldn't mind, I had the suspicion.

I had just gotten involved in reading the back story to a nasty property dispute two of my tenet farmers were having over the north pasture grazing lands when Draco knocked on my door. I looked up and motioned him in, pushing the paperwork to the side. I had planned on summoning Draco home the next weekend to discuss his behaviour, but now would be an ideal time.

"Father."

"Draco." I watched him gaze around my study with interest. He rarely stepped foot in the room without being in trouble. He'd had few opportunities to see it without his gaze being fixed on the carpet. "Is there something you needed?"

He brought his eyes back to me and I watched him shut himself off. Occlumency. My son didn't trust me. How interesting. What could my little dragon be hiding? I gave a slow smile and he barely stopped himself from taking a step back.

"I was just wondering who your new interest was."

I nodded. Draco had obviously seen the state of my robes at the meeting. But that wasn't all.

"And I'd like you to tell me where you have Potter stashed."

Now it was my turn to hide my reaction.

"What are you talking about, Draco? If I knew where Potter was..."

He cut me off. "Stop it, Father. I know for a fact that only Dumbledore and the Order knew where he was living. No one else. You couldn't have stolen the file. How long have you been hiding him? Severus and I searched and spelled the house. They tortured Harry when he was a child, but he never came back after the end of first year. Has he been with you the entire time, every summer? What are you planning?" He sat down across from me and glared. "I never knew you liked children."

I watched him closely and was impressed. Draco had never stood up to me before and he was doing an admirable job of it. Malfoy to the core. I returned the glare. "I would like to know what do you think you're up to lying to the Dark Lord. You and Severus are up to something yourselves." I paused. "And I don't care for children, at least not in the manner you're insinuating."

We sat there for a long moment before he slowly stood up. "I am warning you, Father. I know you have Potter. It's just a matter of time before the Order lands on your doorstep. I can't keep them distracted for long. Severus knows as well as I do that you had to have gotten that information from Harry himself. Dumbledore is likely to be mounting a search for all Malfoy properties, magical and muggle."

A warning and a grain of information. "Then you really are working for them, for the Light." I had already surmised as much, months ago. But his slow nod cemented my suspicions. "Then you should be careful."

"A threat." He voice was hard.

"No." I shook my head and stood up as well. "You know that I would not risk the end to my line by killing you, Draco. You are my son, and as such you have my protection. But I can't shield you should the Dark Lord discover what you are up to. I've kept my mouth shut about Severus for a long time, out of a debt I owe him from our school days. But things are starting to come to a head. It won't be long till I will no longer be able to play both sides against each other."

"Then you'd best pick one."

I smiled the same slow, cruel smile. "I believe I have." Draco narrowed his eyes. "I pick my own side."

tbc...

----------

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.

This chapter is really mostly Saavik13's handwriting.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	9. Where does he stand?

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. The Underdark and Drows as general are not mine. I'm just borrowing them from R.A. Salvatore's trilogy 'Black Elf'. Tarikairis and Kae-Enathe elves on the other hand belong to me. Zamanirr Mer'harn is my friend's property (I asked first), Saramil, Draylaner, Anna and Feamel are mine, and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my beta/co-writer.

Author (co-written): Sigil Dagger and Saavik13

Parings: Harry/Lucius, Severus/Draco, OC/OC

Summary: Why is Harry drawing pictures for money in the street? What happens when Lucius walks straight ahead and decides that he has something to say about the matter? And what if Harry actually let the Sorting Hat put him to Slytherin?

Warnings: slash, kind of AU

Rating: R (just to be sure)

* * *

**All gold does not glister**

**Chapter 9: **Where does he stand?

Draco briskly walked up the steps into Hogwarts. His cape billowed out behind him angrily as he shoved the giant oak doors open. Grumbling, the blond stalked towards the gargoyle and up into the headmaster's office. The door at the top of the stairs opened automatically for him, slamming into the wall. The boy nearly growled as Fawkes twittered at the loud noise.

Dumbledore looked up from his paperwork, glasses sliding down his nose.

"Well my boy, what is the matter?"

Draco sneered as he unclasped his cloak and threw it over the back of a chair before grabbing a lemon drop and crunching it. He snarled as Albus chuckled at his behaviour. "Stop it, old man. I'm not in the mood."

"That I can tell." He motioned towards the now cloak draped chair and Draco fell back into the cushions still exuding an aura of intense aggravation. "Beyond your need for sugar, what did you get out of your father?"

"Nothing. Bloody nothing." Draco frowned and reached absentmindedly for another candy. "The man is up to something, all right. A dangerous something. And he's not sharing." Draco's eyes gradually got less hostile as he slowly sucked on the lemon drop. "He does know about Severus and my positions. That much is clear. And he has no intention of telling the Dark Lord, yet."

"_Yet_ being the key to that statement", Albus observed as he poured tea into a pair of garishly enamelled cups.

"Indeed." Draco took a cup, added five sugars, and sat back again in the chair. "There is a connection between Harry and Father. I can feel it."

"Do you think Lucius is hiding the boy?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not certain of anything, but I do suspect that he is. Most likely, that is who Father was involved with directly before the meeting."

Albus sat forward in his chair. "You don't think he'd force the boy to do anything?" Concern darkened the old eyes.

"No." Draco shook his head. "Father likes his lovers to enjoy themselves. He thinks rape is boring."

"Why do I not find that very reassuring?" Albus grumbled. Draco ignored him.

"No, Harry is with him willingly. And Father is too smart to ruin such an opportunity."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. With Harry, Father has a bargaining chip with both sides. He's building Harry's trust in him. Father had to have gotten the information about the Dursleys from Harry. He leaked the information to protect his property. In other words, Father thinks of Harry as his. He's not going to let any harm come to something he owns so long as he still finds that something amusing and not too costly."

"And if Harry becomes too large of a liability?"

"Father has always been good with cost benefit analysis. If whatever he's using Harry for is costing more than it's worth, kiss Potter goodbye."

Dumbledore looked grave as he sipped his tea. "If Lucius does have Harry, where is he keeping him?"

"He wasn't in the Manor. I would have been able to sense that. It's probable that Father is paying for his room and board somewhere, trying to keep him out of our magical sensing range. I got the impression that this is a rather recent development as well. I doubt he would have taken much interest in Harry before his powers presented themselves this last school year."

Albus stroked his beard. "If he does lose interest in him, what will Lucius do with the boy? Turn him over to Voldemort?"

Draco shrugged again. "Your guess is as good as mine. But I don't think he'd do anything to strengthen the Dark Lord's position. Father is scheming, and Harry isn't that naïve. I believe he's found a different ally, whom is neither you nor the Dark Lord. We might have a larger problem with this. If we defeat the Dark Lord, Father could very well use Harry and this new ally to gain control of the Dark Art's circles."

Albus contemplated for a moment. "That might not pose as large a problem as one might think. Lucius may have an unhealthy interest in the Dark Arts, but he also has no desire to leave society. I seriously doubt he'd be willing to sacrifice all he has in a futile bid for world domination."

"No, he'd just sneak into power while you're not looking", Draco mumbled and Albus chose not to comment.

Albus took one of the lemon candies himself and stared out his window for a long moment. "We need to find out where Harry stands in all this. The boy has too much power for his own good. If Lucius is subverting him for some nefarious purpose, we need to plan. If Lucius, Voldemort, and Harry Potter join forces, we can not defeat them."

* * *

# _Hogwarts, the Snape living areas _#

Severus knocked on his son's door.

"Come in, father!" came the instant reply.

The Potions Master complied. His half-elf son Saramil and Harry Potter were in the same year -6th come September -and shared a dorm in Slytherin. Therefore, Saramil should have been able to shed some insight into the boy's mind and/or give information, especially since they were friends - as close to friends as Harry had let anyone become. Severus knew the Potter boy kept mostly to himself, though he had some odd habits. And he was fairly sure the boy had slept at least with few of the other Slytherins who had some authority and influence over the house for the soul purpose of keeping his back covered. And quite probably a Ravenclaw here or there for class notes. So far it had worked, and nobody had taken offence, well accept for the Potions Master for his personal, brisk ethics. He despised promiscuity – he'd learned that lesson the hard way.

"Saramil, have you heard anything from Harry this summer?"

"No. He doesn't stay in contact with any of his friends or allies during the summer. He said something once about his family not liking the owls flying in and out all the time. I thought you knew", the 16-year-old boy answered. He flicked his waist-long, black wavy hair back. "Something wrong with him?"

Severus regarded his half-elf son for a moment. "It seems Harry never went back to his relatives after the first year. And nobody has any inkling as to his whereabouts, though it would seem he has been in Muggle London during the summer vacations."

They were quiet for a moment.

"Tea?" the young boy asked after the silence got heavy.

"Yes, please." Severus sat down on one of the chairs while he watched his son prepare the tea.

"Here, father." The boy handed a cup over before sitting down as well. He regarded his father critically before he bluntly stated, "You are not telling me everything."

"And you are too much like your _nhara_", the older man snorted, amused. (A/N: _Nhara_ is an Elvish word, and cannot be truly translated, but the meaning in this case is something like 'father who gave birth'. It is usually used when a parent of a child has a role outside of the traditional roles - like father or mother – in the child's life for some reason or another.)

"But of course." Saramil sipped his tea. "Just tell me."

"Draco and I think Lucius Malfoy has something to do with this, perhaps not from the beginning but at some point he came into the picture as well. Not too long ago, by my estimation."

"Has anyone checked the apartment Lucius keeps for his lovers? Zamanirr might be able to help too, he rather likes Harry and he knows his way around Muggle London as well as the wizarding side. I think he might have mentioned something about being bored out of his mind", the younger Snape suggested with a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Zamanirr Armand Mer'harn Malfoy was the 26 year old, very young black elf, and adopted son of Lucius Malfoy. He had just finished Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy that spring. He had only been two years a head of Saramil Snape and Draco Malfoy. Zamanirr had been 18yrs old when Lucius had found him in some Knockturn Alley's pub, doing this and that for his living. Sensing the black skinned, snow-white-haired drow's potential to be a powerful wizard, Lucius had made a deal with the boy and had ended up adopting him into the Malfoy family. Two years later, Zamanirr was at Hogwarts, as a 3rd year, when Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had started as first years.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Severus asked, rhetorically. "He surely knows his way around the castle as good as the Weasley twins he is so found of. Why don't you ask Zamanirr to visit? I know you miss him. I shall tell Draco about your other suggestion. Then the dark nuisance can go see what he can dredge up about Potter in muggle London."

The gloomy 20 year-old black elf had on the first meeting with Saramil Snape stolen the younger elf's heart, completely without Zamanirr noticing or meaning. When Saramil tried to make his feelings known to Zamanirr later that year, the black elf thought him a child, even though the half-elf tried to explain that despite his seemingly young age he was actually shortly going to be an adult amongst the Kae-Enathe, the sea-elves, he was born to and had grown with. But of course Zamanirr didn't listen and Saramil decided to change his strategy and let the dark elf come to him instead. Though, that would take time and patience.

"Would you mind terribly if I went out looking too, with Zamanirr?" Saramil gave his father a pleading look.

"Little Crow..."

"Please?"

"Oh, fine. Just stay out of trouble."

"When do I ever get into trouble?" the boy's grey eyes were large with innocence.

"How about /_always_, hm?"

Saramil pulled out a piece of parchment and hurriedly scribbled a note then summoned a trustworthy owl to take the message quickly and discretely.

* * *

Dear Flame,

Father gave me permission to invite you to our home.

You are welcome to stay as long as you like.

Yours, Crow

* * *

"Little Crow, are you certain this friend of yours can be trusted? What certainty do you have that he is on the side of Light? Especially considering he is a Malfoy, though through an adoption, but still, he is older than Draco. He's already old enough to have been approached with the Mark." Severus asked as he watched the bird fly away. While he wished his son to be happy, he also wished to keep him safe. While Zamanirr might be capable of helping to fulfil the first category, he had his doubts about the second.

Saramil gave his father a small indulgent smile and shook his head. "He doesn't really care about the Light or the Dark, but thinks the Dark Lord is a simpering idiot, and a man no less, so Zamanirr won't side with him. And Lucius won't force him. Zamanirr did worship a chaos goddess when he lived at the Underdark as a young dark elf, so chaos is no problem to him. And he still sometimes thinks in a rather matriarchal way, putting the opinions of females much higher, sometimes even completely ignoring any protest a male might make."

"He has the potential to be a fanatic", Severus noted.

Saramil smiled a little. "I know."

* * *

Crow,

I'll be there.

Could you ask the little red one not to bother me so much? She is yours, after all.

Little bro still visiting SS?

Flame

Saramil read the letter from his dark elf friend. As usual, they used their own code language of sorts, attempting to never write with understandable names. One could never be too careful, and owls could be easily intercepted.

The half-elf laughed softly as Zamanirr, again, mentioned that Faemel had given him trouble. Really, the nosy little dragon wasn't so bad. Perhaps a bit too energetic, but otherwise well behaved. Then again, Faemel was a female and Zamanirr had always had problems defending himself against almost any and every female creature – especially if they were able to talk.

Sometimes it was odd keeping correspondence with the dark elf. As neither of them was very talkative, the letters were sort and to the point. But still, it was certainly better than nothing.

Just like Saramil, Zamanirr wasn't completely from this world. Actually, Zamanirr was something completely alien here entirely, a drow, a dark elf. In their appearance the two of them were the opposite of the each other: Saramil had midnight black hair, an almost white complexion and delicate bone-structure, where Zamanir had skin as black as black can be, snow-white hair, red eyes and a long and muscular body. Both had pointed elven-ears and other features no human would have. It certainly made them both stand out in a crowd, and was what had at first caught Saramil's attention. It wasn't every day he ran into someone that had even an inkling of what life was like for him.

Zamanirr had once lived deep down, under the earth's surface, the Underdark, where his kin and kind lived in their dark, glorious cave cities in a cruel and chaotic matriarchal society, where males were looked down on and were under the female command. Saramil on the other hand, was used to thinking the sex of a person didn't matter, though they each gave a person a unique perspective and options that the other gender might not have. Saramil was a kae-enathe, one of Tarikairis' sea-elves, who kept mostly to themselves at their ships. Though he had been eleven when he had last seen his kin and kind, excluding his _nhara_ Dreylaner.

No-one knew how or why Zamanirr had ended up here on Earth. Lucius Malfoy had found him in Knockturn Alley sweeping the floor and doing other such things in a pub, seen his magical potential and offered to adopt the then 18-year-old dark elf. And thus Zamanirr had gone to Hogwarts – two years before Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and Saramil Snape had started there – as Zamanirr Armand Mer'harn Malfoy.

Saramil had been eleven when his _nhara_ Draylaner had brought him to Hogwarts. The Headmaster's phoenix Fawkes had brought a letter – which of course neither of them had been able to read – to Saramil, inviting the eleven-year-old Snape boy to Hogwarts. Severus had known nothing about his half-elven son before they arrived in the Great Hall - with Fawkes' help they had come from Tarikairis to Earth. Not that Severus, had he known before, would have been able to stumble, again, across the gateway into the universe of Tarikairis and even had he managed that impossible feat again, there would have been little hope finding Draylaner, and thus Saramil. Finding his way back home to Earth would also have proved neigh on impossible.

Not that it mattered anymore. Saramil was here, with his father Severus Snape, the Potions Master of Hogwarts. And as much as he hated to admit it, he would not wish to go back, at least not yet.

tbc...

* * *

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated. Honestly, I was ready to quit writing this, but thanks to all encouraging reviews decided to continue. So, really: Thank you all, who reviewed.

Of course without Saavik13, this chapter would not exist.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	10. Playing is good for the mind

**All gold does not glister**

**Chapter 10: **Playing is good for the mind

_Anna:_

I was sitting in the kitchen eating my breakfast when Harry walked in. He patted my head slightly as he went to make something to eat for himself.

"Morning, Mr. Lazy Ass", I greeted him playfully.

"Good Morning, Little. So now I'm a lazy ass, am I?" he replied. Before I took notice of what he was doing, he flicked a wet cloth at me.

"Yack!" I shrieked. "You monster!" And went chasing after him around the apartment. This kind of game was becoming some kind of a morning ritual for us, though as yet, Lucius-san hadn't seen it. He just might think we were crazy, not that he would be badly mistaken. And I had never wanted to risk angering our meal ticket.

Screaming, "Give up!" I jumped on Harry, tackling him to the floor.

"Never!" he squeaked and squirmed trying to throw me off.

So I had to use my ultimate weapon on him: tickle the prey! Very soon I had him wiggling and trying fruitlessly to escape my evil means, but he stood no chance.

"Oh, stop, you crazy creature! Ah haha haa... Sto-ooo-opth..." Harry begged breathlessly while trying not to laugh. He was so deliciously ticklish... "Anna! Anna, stop, please!"

I stopped. "Hmp, fine. Spoil my fun, why don't you", I muttered and pouted theatrically, still not getting off him.

"You, my dear Anna", Harry started as he finally managed to pull me to the floor next to him, "are an Imp!"

"Why thank you, kind sir." I grinned at him. He just laughed and hugged me warmly.

* * *

_Harry:_

I tried on yet another outfit. Pulling on the odd pieces of garment, while letting my thoughts flow.

Lucius and Anna had finally agreed on something. Unfortunately for me it had been about my wardrobe, or its lack as Lucius had stated. So, the two of them had dragged me on a shopping trip. Now, why did people think that I needed more clothes? I got along just fine with what I had already. But did they listen to me? No, of course not.

So, here I was, standing in a changing room, in an outfit that looked beyond peculiar to me. Wait a sec... On my feet I had army surplus boots, with 18 holes. Hugging my hips were tight leather pants that left precious little to the imagination, leaving my belly button out for all to see and a shirt made mostly out of netted fabric. Which showed my nipples very clearly. I didn't look bad in it, just a bit out of place.

Grr, time to make an end of this... Not that I had really minded, but this was a bit too much. The shirt, I mean. I don't fancy showing off my nipples on my spare time, thank you very much.

Storming out to make my mind clear, I marched hands on my hips, walking smoothly as a jaguar – which just happened to be my other Animagus form. "Lucius, Anna!" I hissed lowly but angrily. Then changing my tactic I murmured sweetly: "Could the two of you explain this to me?" I included the outfit on me with a wave of my hand.

Just then I noticed that Anna seemed to have dropped her eyes to the floor and Lucius seemed to be almost drooling while staring at my legs. I just stood there, with my 'I am irritated at your very existence, do not annoy me more'-pose. Just when I was about to start stamping my foot Lucius snapped into action and dragged me back to the changing room.

We ended up buying the leather pants and the combat boots as well, and a few others with the same theme. And I got a few marks on my neck, one I could easily count Lucius' teeth in.

Not that I had anything to whine about.

I smirked to myself. Not at all.

tbc...

* * *

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.

Of course without Saavik13, this chapter would not exist.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	11. Severus' secrets

**All gold does not glister**

**Chapter 11: **Severus' secrets

_Tarikairis..._

_It is millions of light-years away... Or perhaps only at the distance of a few seconds?_

_A world where elves, dwarfs and mankind live side by side – though not always peacefully. Where the forests are green, mountains high, creatures lively and curious. Where magic flows strong in elves and dwarfs as well as in the earth and the air._

_Tarikairis. The elves are its firstborn race, with the most longevity and the most peace loving souls._

_It is the world between all and every world, where the worlds cross like roads tend to do. There you can go anywhere through the Gates, and it is told not even time can limit travelling between worlds...

* * *

_

#Remembering the past.#

_Severus:_

That first year, the year Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy came to Hogwarts, I watched idly as the sorting went on. At the same time those two troublemakers arrived to drive us all crazy, I made a discovery that forever changed my existence. I had an eleven-year-old half-elf son. To say I was shocked by the events of that peculiar evening would be an understatement. If I'd been any older, I fear I'd have had a heart attack.

I remember wondering why Minerva hesitated a little in the middle of the S's as she called out the names of the first years from her scroll. The children were being at least semi obedient, waiting to go to the front to put the Sorting Hat on top of their little whining heads. Yes, I don't like children much. Yes, they do irritate me very dearly. And yes, I don't really care either.

Twelve to Hufflepuff, ten to Ravenclaw, eight to Gryffindor and fourteen to Slytherin. Quite a good capture that year to my house, quite good indeed. The most shocking addition to Slytherin had been Harry Potter. Who would have guessed? Certainly not me. That had been the mildest shock, however.

No sooner had the Potter boy claimed his seat next to Malfoy, than suddenly the doors of the Great Hall were flung open.

Two figures stepped in, one long and slim – and for some reason he had a very familiar look and feel – and the other shorter, and smaller. A grown up man and a boy, I had not been able to figure out either's age at first glance.

Everyone held their breath. Even I. They gave off a strange magical buzz and their unexpected entrance set everyone on edge. Most were expecting an attack.

They stepped further into the hall, without a sound. Just when they came to stand right in front of the Head Table, I finally noticed that Fawkes, Albus Dumbledore's phoenix, had been sitting on the boy's shoulder. A small, delicate hand reached out to stroke its feathers, caressing, then the boy had walked straight to Albus and handed the bird to him carefully over the table.

The man, who came in with the boy, chose that moment to open his mouth, forever changing my life.

"Severus Snape." It was almost a whisper, though loud enough to ring in the hall like a cry. I should have known in that moment who stood before me. I'd only ever met one man who could do that without even a hint of a spell.

I turned towards the man and froze. He looked familiar. Something about him tickled at my memory. Something about his face. No, his eyes. His eyes...

"Yes?" I asked coldly, as was – and still is – my habit. Well, I had made an exception once. A long time ago, an event best forgotten – for my heart's sake if for no other reason.

"It is good to see you again." There was a short pause. I felt shocked. But he continued, though, as if aware of my feelings, as his softer voice let me know. "I brought my son, our son, as requested. And I do hope you take good care of him while he is here."

I had only been able to stare at him. His son. Our son? My son?

"I beg your pardon?" I managed to croak out, caught between a desire to strike him or flee to the sanctuary of my dungeons, away from the curious stares.

"You do not remember me, Severus?" Something, like hurt, crossed his bright green eyes.

Those eyes. Beneath me. Over me...

"Dray?" was all I was able to slur out. My voice, thank Merlin, had been a hoarse whisper. The crowd in the hall kept staring, but they hadn't heard. Good.

"Aye." A smile rose to his eyes.

"Severus, you can use my office. I'll be there soon", Albus told us, that damned twinkle in his blue eyes.

I nodded, put back my normal face, rose from my seat, and led the two of them to the Headmaster's office. I thanked the old doddering wizard the entire way. I don't think I'd have lasted the scrutiny much longer, and this conversation was best done in private, if it had to be done at all.

Once in the office, I made myself a drink. Something I did only on /_very_/ rare occasions.

Just when I had been about to toss the drink down my throat, a gentle hand stopped me.

"No", Draylaner urged me softly, but with the kind of authority in his voice that demanded, not asked. The quiet authority I'd learned to expect from him over our association, our far too brief association.

I scowled at him. It was all his fault. All of it. Don't ask me why, but I was certain of it. It all went back to him, really. Everything. And nothing. And I needed that drink.

The elf man, yes he was an elf, a Kae-Enathe to be exact, raised his hand to touch my cheek gently, longingly.

"Such a long time..." The soft voice grew hoarse by the last word.

I covered his delicate hand with mine, leant lightly against his touch, and my eyes closed. Merlin, it hardly mattered anymore whose fault it was. Yesterday had returned with a vengeance and it was all I could do not to lose myself to the memory of him, the smell of him. His touch brought every last moment back in painful detail. Every laugh, every tear, every last scar reopened.

Draylaner rubbed my cheek and sighed, stepping back. I watched as the raven-haired boy pushed him gently to a chair, touching the man's face affectionately. "_Nhara, rekatcha. Raeth_... (Nhara, calm down. Father...)", the boy had glanced at me shortly, "_sarir san. __Ta koda ian nahda._ (loves you. He's just surprised.)"

Dray's sudden lack of strength sent a shiver through me. Was he ill? I couldn't remember him like this. He was, or should I say she was – when last we'd been together, Dray had appeared as a female, heshe was a shape-shifter - energetic, lively and at the same time so calm. But never had I seen him in such a... weak state.

I was also shocked. How could have the boy known about my feelings? Was I that transparent to him? Me, the master of Occlumency? Though, it had been interesting that the boy had stressed that I loved Draylaner to try and calm the elf. As well as I knew, any other child would had said that he loved his farther, not pressed the love of an unknown as a comforter.

"_Rac sa koda nehta kii na, Pei Haest_ (Don't you worry about me, Little Crow)", the older elf replied gently. He ran one hand across his pale face, then lifted his gaze to me. "Severus, this is my, our son Saramil. I suppose he can use your last name here, am I right?" He pushed the boy gently towards me. "This is your father, Little Crow. And, yes I know that you full well know who he is."

"Father Severus", the boy said softly, brushing his left hand's fingers past his forehead, bowing his head lightly.

I recognized it as a Kae-Enathe's – the sea-elves of Tarikairis – greeting to somebody one wished to become friends with. So, I copied the movement, saying my son's name for the first time.

"_Koda sa nahda?_ (Are you surprised?)", a feminine voice commented from the boy's direction.

Draylaner clicked his tongue once. "Be polite, Faemel."

A little red dragon came into sight, and I watched with wonder as it had bowed to me elegantly.

"This nosy little creature is Faemel. She has bonded with Saramil, and can talk as well as make sarcastic notes." I clearly heard the laughter in his voice when Dray introduced the small dragon.

Before I had a chance to say anything in response, Albus marched in, eyes twinkling madly.

"Ah, you're here", the Headmaster announced unnecessarily. Of course we were there. As if he hadn't known full well that we'd obeyed his command without delay.

"Albus, I assume", Draylaner said bowing lightly – he had stood up just before the office's door had swung open. His bow was as cold as winter. Then again, Draylaner had always been a Kae-Enathe to the core. And they didn't really like humans. Or rather, they didn't like outsiders.

The old man looked a bit put out by the elf's lack of respect.

The entire event was very interesting in the extreme. Seeing Albus snubbed was always amusing.

"I am Draylaner son of Aneja", the elf introduced himself even more coldly than my usual tone. "And this is Severus' and my son Saramil. I got a letter from you, but could not read it. Luckily, your companion was able to tell us what was in it", he nodded towards Fawkes and handed the letter he had spoken about to me.

I read it quickly. It had been addressed to one Saramil Snape, and included an invitation to come and study in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as list of supplies.

"You knew?" was the only thing I was able to get out of my mouth. It was a blatant accusation. How could Albus have hidden this from me, knowing what it would mean? What it might mean for all of us.

To my surprise it was Draylaner who asked me to calm down. He subtly suggested that it had been Fawkes who had known.

"Please, sit down everyone", Albus asked, somewhat sadly.

When we had obeyed, I allowed myself the luxury of running my hand through my hair. Merlin, I still needed a drink. I glanced at the glass I had laid on the Headmaster's table. But I had decided, I wouldn't touch it. At least not with my son in the room. Bloody hell, my son. Instead, I turned my gaze to Saramil, my son. The thought would take a while to cement in my brain. As it was, I felt lucky that I was even capable of processing the information at all.

Saramil had Dray's features for certain, straight lined little nose, high cheekbones, narrow lips and big eyes that dominated his face. His eyes were grey, like a thundercloud, not green like Dray's. Potter and his mother had the only other eyes that green. Unearthly shades of forest and emerald, that swirled and pulled at you. Drowning you if you let them. Smothered to death in a forest of silent leaves.

Our son was lightly built, but seemed stronger than he looked. According to what I knew about his... father? No, he had used the term _nhara_, which meant that if Draylaner had been a woman, Saramil would have called him mother. There really wasn't any translation to the word. It was quite rare even among elves of Tarikairis.

Saramil had long black hair, white skin and bare feet. Both_ nhara_ and son were very catlike in their movements. They didn't simply walk, they glided. It had taken me a decade to even begin to mimic that kind of movement.

Wait. Bare feet? My shock must have showed on my face.

"He does not like shoes at all", Draylaner said softly. He always did have a way of picking up on my little pre-occupations. "He usually takes them off and then I do not see them in a very long time. Little Crow uses shoes only in the winter or when the ground causes him more injury than shoes. I advice you, Severus, to just drop the thing and live with it. Though, if you want you can always try. Who knows? He might even listen to you." Dray's voice was attempting to be light, but I could tell something was wrong with him.

I nodded slowly, trying to place why Dray was leaving our son with me, letter or not. He had not told me in all these years, why spring this on me now? Why uproot the boy so completely?

"Saramil does not speak English very well yet, only a few words. Give him a few weeks, and he will speak your language as if it was his mother tongue. Just let him listen and he will learn." The older elf paused once again. "Before you ask, Severus, I never planed any of this to happen. And I would have let you know of him, if I had known a way." His voice dropped to barely a whisper, I doubt Albus could hear it. "Or if I had had the courage."

I gazed into his bright green eyes that had never let me really forget. Forget him. Forget what I had felt for him. I still haven't been able to, not completely. And he has been dead for two years. He died not long after leaving the boy with me. I should have known then that was what was wrong. I should have been able to see it. I've been blind to many things in my life, that being perhaps the most unforgivable.

"Has he your talent?" I asked, almost as quietly.

"Aye. Little Crow is very capable with his shape shifting." Dray sounded proud and I smiled. We shared a knowing look before the old man's voice cut into our private moment.

"He's a Multi-Animagus?" Albus asked, surprised if my observation was right. I could have cursed him for his stupidity. Elves do not become Animagi. They don't have to.

Draylaner lifted his eyebrow. "I do not know the term."

"No, Albus. They both can take any form they want. That is actually the main reason Saramil was ever born, I would wager", I explained with mock indulgence.

The meeting drug on that day. I never did have a private moment with my one time lover. It was quite some time till I found out the truth about why he hid our son from me. And now Dray is gone. I mourned for him, as did Sararmil, in those early days. And we grew much closer, which was a surprise to me. Don't get me wrong, I love my son very much, have ever since we met. But I've never been one to allow attachment. If Dray were alive, he'd say that was an understatement. Strange how someone's death can have that kind of an effect on a person.

But life moved on. For the both of us. Even if we sometimes miss Draylaner more than either tongue of wizard or of elf can express.

tbc...

* * *

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.

Of course without Saavik13, this chapter would not exist.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	12. To catch a bird

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. The Underdark and Drows as general are not mine. I'm just borrowing them from R.A. Salvatore's trilogy 'Black Elf'. Tarikairis and Kae-Enathe elves on the other hand belong to me. Zamanirr Mer'harn is my friend's property (I asked first), Saramil, Draylaner, Anna and Feamel are mine, and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my beta/co-writer.

Author (co-written): Sigil Dagger and Saavik13

Parings: Harry/Lucius, others?

* * *

**All gold does not glister**

* * *

**Chapter 12: **To catch a bird

My Dear Flame,

Yes, your little silver is here, all right.

Could you teach him a few silencing charms, please? I'm getting a headache with all the screaming. Not to mention my poor nose...

Yours, Crow

* * *

Crow,

You tell them.

Try some purifying charms if it bothers so much.

I'll be there in the morning.

You know what halcyon means?

Flame

* * *

My Flame,

Have to corner the silver one, then.

Why didn't I think of that? Stupid me.

Halcyon is a myth, some sort of ice bird, I think. Why?

Yours, Crow

* * *

Crow,

You ARE right. Very peculiar from you not to have thought of it.

I'll tell, when we meet.

Flame

* * *

_Zamanirr:_

I watched the brown owl I had just sent, again, to Saramil with a message fly away, my letter clutched in his talons. Hades, the owl, had done a nice job with our correspondence, delivering it quickly. I would have preferred using my hawk, but she was a bit too recognizable. A shame really.

Walking down the street, I tapped my fingers to the rhythm of the music I was listening to from one earpiece. Saramil had given the muggle device for music listening to me and - not that I would actually admit it out loud - I had fallen in love with the thing. An absolutely genius invention - for humans to make.

I smirked to myself. Saramil would have slapped the back of my head for that comment. Not that my little brother Draco would have let it be...

But back to business. I had found some interesting information regarding our little runaway, as Severus had put it. Some people I knew on the streets had seen Harry some days ago, and my lead said to ask for Halcyon - it was apparently Harry's street-name of sort - to find the boy I had described to him. Though he'd warned to go through Madam to meet Halcyon if I valued my comfort any.

As if! I could just see myself questioning Madam, who was one of the most respected leaders on the grey and dark side of London streets, about Harry. Geez. She wouldn't give a rat's arse about my reasons to find him. Besides, it seemed that Harry, as Halcyon, was at least partly under the protection of Madam, which meant he was working for her in some way. So, that left me with two choices: 1) I could go around snooping, coming up mostly empty handed or potential worse, or 2) I could go get Saramil and have HIM make the excuses for our searching for Harry.

The first of which I had already done and the second I was well on my way to initiating.

* * *

_Lucius:_

Thinking about Harry was becoming a new hobby for me. Every day, even if I didn't meet him, which was fast becoming an oddity, I was thinking about him. He was so intoxicating. Though, I was quite sure he would not appreciate that kind of remark. Not that I was going to tell him that anyway. No, thank you very much. There are things I rather not share. Especially things like that.

The boy had been _partly_ innocent the first time I took him – though a very fast learner. It had been quite surprising, considering his profession. One could rarely find anything innocent from the streets where the boy had lived. Of course, my definition of innocent would equal everyone else's idea of damned to the fires of hell, but it is all rather subjective really.

A part of me was glad, in a selfish kind of way, that I had been the one to teach him true pleasure. Another part was quite shocked – and sad. I might not be a nice person, but I too am human.

I wonder, where did this need, this hunger come from to possess the boy? Though he is the saviour of the Wizarding world, Harry Potter - the Boy Who Lived, it has no real meaning to me. I am, however, able to appreciate the irony of it. No, I just wanted HIM, as just Harry, not THE Harry Potter.

Perhaps I should tell this to Severus, I am sure he would laugh his arse off. And if I was not so serious about it I would too.

To think of it: Lucius Malfoy wants Harry Potter to himself, and does not really give a damn if he is THEBoy Who Lived.

I am sure my beloved Master would also be so delighted...

I shuddered at the thought.

If he would ever to find out, I would not survive the meeting.

Good thing he is becoming my ex-master, isn't it?

Harry, you will be the death of me. My second street rescue... I dearly hope not all good deeds go unpunished. Then again, combined with my bad deeds, it would take all eternity to pay the debt back, thus I may have finally stumbled on the secret to immortality. Won't the Dark Lord be so pleased? If only it were going to be that easy.

tbc...

* * *

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.

Of course without Saavik13, this chapter would not exist.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	13. Lick your own way

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, 'cause I'm not J.K. Rowling, as you very well should know. The Underdark and Drows as general are not mine. I'm just borrowing them from R.A. Salvatore's trilogy 'Black Elf'. Tarikairis and Kae-Enathe elves on the other hand belong to me. Zamanirr Mer'harn is my friend's property (I asked first), Saramil, Draylaner, Anna and Feamel are mine, and everything else you don't recognize belongs to either me or my beta/co-writer.

Author (co-written): Sigil Dagger and Saavik13

Parings: Harry/Lucius, Draco/Hermione (mentionings), Draco/Severus, OC/OC

* * *

**All gold does not glister**

* * *

**Chapter 13: **Lick your own way

_Harry:_

I was flipping through my sketchbook when I came across a half forgotten sketch of Lucius sprawled on the sofa, reading some book or another. It's kind of something you would never expect for him to do, as he gives off the aura of being this icy... ice-berg-ish inhuman, and being way above everyone else.

Tilting my head to the side, I stared at the picture. Yes, this is how I like him the most. Not calm and collected but human-like and doing something he enjoys, something just for him. I think I'm going to paint him like this someday, lazing around. Oh yes, I will, absolutely. Though he might just kill me for it.

I smirked to myself as I gently touched the drawing. Well, it would be for a good cause.

I flipped to an empty page on the sketchbook, thinking. How would I compose the picture? What colours to use, limited or not? I let my mind roam free for the sake of planning the painting, while making some notes and sketches.

I don't know if it should surprise me or not, but Lucius is one of the people who have the quite annoying habit of the reading morning paper out loud. And no matter what some might say, there are only a few people who actually like for someone else to read the newspaper to them. Especially if they haven't yet studied it themselves.

Unsurprisingly, I don't belong to that odd little group, but it doesn't bother me too much. For Lucius to read the paper for me is kind of cute, if you think about it. Now, how sick is that? Lucius Malfoy and cute in the same sentence. Hell just froze over and Satan is having a tea party with the Jamaican Bobsled team.

I think I need to get some fresh air before all my brain-cells die from being cooped up inside too long. It's been a while since I'd had an opportunity to experience cabin fever, but I do remember what it feels like – years in a cupboard will do that to you.

Chucking the sketchbook to the table, I shouted: "Anna! Grab your guitar, we're going out now!"

* * *

shadows

slowly creeping

gleaming light

shimmer

dimmer

A BEAST

so tempting

dreadful

beautiful

sweet

- and the moon laughs at us

* * *

Lucius studied the raven-haired youth who was currently painting a picture of him. The dark hair kept falling into his eyes, so that Harry had to flick it back again, and again. Then those impossibly green eyes would look up and study him in turn for a moment before the graceful fingers holding the paint brush, adding paint here, drawing a line there, would go back to their fervent like work.

He had picked the boy from the streets. To be his lover. Not really an act of goodness. But Lucius was starting to think he actually had gained much more than he had expected. Of course, it had been the power of the boy that had called to him, hummed for him to take notice and really look and maybe even capture.

This was familiar to him, in a way. He had once before answered to a call of power beaconing to him. And he had taken that boy, Zamanirr, too to be his possesion. But they were so different, their power, and their meaning to him. He had never even considered having anything sexual with Zamanirr. No, he had just adopted the dark elf as his son, though not as his heir before Draco. And they were both happy with the way their father-son relationship had formed, even if the black skinned elf thought of Lucius as a patriarch of the house, they came along just fine.

But Harry was a different story. He wanted the lithe boy to be his. To what extent? For now he would be content with the young Slytherin as his lover. But for how long would that suffice?

Lucius muttered something vulgar under his breath. They had forgotten about the Dark Lord. They would need to plan if anything was to come of this, or even for things to go on as they were.

Lucius had been plotting, yes, but somehow he never got past the fact that the Dark Lord had to die.

Harry looked at him questioningly from his painting. "You know, it's quite impossible to capture you on the canvas when you keep making all those facial expressions", the young man commented.

"Hmmh", was all he got for his bother.

The youth turned back to his painting. "You worry about Voldemort too much."

"Yes", Lucius answered carefully, "And you worry too little."

"They will come", the raven-haired youth stated, meaning the Dark Lord's followers. "And I will need to run, again." He shrugged. "It's always what happens."

"Again?" Lucius inquired.

"Of course. It wouldn't be the first time I've had to move to another location because there has been some of Voldie's minions moving around. Even if he hadn't noticed me, or wasn't even searching for me, the Death Eaters got too close."

Lucius' upper lip drew up into an expression of daunting and disgust. "So, you do have the instinct for self-preservation."

The boy put his brush and cloth down and stared hard at the blond man. "Yes", he then said mildly, advancing towards the other. "To some extent at least." He came to a halt, his knees touching the older man's. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be here..." He straddled the strong thighs calmly. "...Now, would I?" And pressed his lips as an offer to the pale one's.

And they took the offer, hungrily devouring and studying.

Harry lifted his hands to cares the white blond mass of silky hair, rubbing little soothing circles into the scalp with his fingertips. Lucius let out an appreciative hum into the boy's mouth, while sliding his tongue languidly over his lover's teeth. Strong arms pulled the lithe body closer.

Taking the hint, Harry rubbed himself cat-like against Lucius, pushing him backwards into the sofa. Delicate hands started to peel off the older wizard's shirt, finding quickly their target: the pale smooth skin and well formed chest muscles receiving pious worship. He started to study the skin and the muscles beneath it with the intensity he usually reserved for his drawing, but he found this a worthy case too.

Drawing soft gasps from the blond, he continued his study, sliding his other hand between them and under the soft grey pants.

"Ah!" the soft cry was startled out from the Malfoy patriarch's lips. Which Harry claimed to a more passionate kiss; never stopping from his study of manly anatomy.

Finally, when Lucius was panting hard, Harry left his lips and slid down to greet the blonde's more demanding need with his wicked mouth.

"A-aaahhh!"

And received his reward for his ministrations.

* * *

tbc...

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.

Of course without Saavik13, this chapter would not exist.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	14. Past crush, little brother

Author (co-written): Sigil Dagger and Saavik13

Parings: Harry/Lucius, Draco/Hermione (mentionings), Draco/Severus, OC/OC

* * *

**All gold does not glister**

* * *

**Chapter 14:** (Looking back to 5th year)

Past crush, little brother;

Peek in to Zamanirr's daily behaviour

#Last year, Draco's Fifth Year, on the Hogwarts train #

The black skinned, snow-white haired young drow-man, Zamanirr, watched through the window at the fleeting scenery mostly out of boredom as the train moved on taking them closer to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The dark elf considered himself as Zamanirr Mer'harn from the house of Malfoy. But the world saw him as Zamanirr Armand Malfoy. It would have aggravated him immensely, had it not been for the fact that he knew it was necessary and had accepted it.

"...The Mudblood Granger..." His adopted younger brother Draco Malfoy, who was really a Malfoy by birth, continued his almost restless nagging. One could clearly hear the hatred and loathing in his soft voice.

The older boy groaned. 'Why can't he just shut up? He has been like this... As long as he has known Hermione Granger, which means four years. This will be the fifth. Would it take too much effort from him to be quiet at least once?'

The human blond continued to speak about the subject of his loathing with intense concentration and obscure cursing.

'Apparently.' Zamanirr added to himself.

The dark elf turned his gaze to Draco when the boy's voice changed to something familiar, something he himself knew from his own experience. The hatred had been replaced with lust and... need?

The black-skinned elf, who actually should have been considered a man since he was twenty-five, tilted his head to the side.

"Why don't you just fuck her, little brother?"

Shocked silence dropped into the train cabin they shared. There was no one else there to hear the comment, because they had been too afraid of Zamanirr. And the dark elf was very pleased about the fear most of the fellow students had for him. That kept them away from him. Though it had never kept away one particularly stubborn... 'Don't think that right now', Zamanirr told himself angrily, shaking his head.

The sharp movement broke the trance Draco had been caught in.

"F-fuck HER?"

"Aye. That might shut your mouth for a moment and stop those stupid fights you two love so much."

Still shocked, the younger boy just gazed at his adopted brother with something close to horror. Zamanirr usually kept his silence, unless he really had something vital to say. Though, sometimes he did so even then. It was possible that Draco had been shocked by the fact he'd spoken at all. Then again, Zamanirr had picked up a weird habit of adding bits and pieces to conversation if he so felt like. Which after spending four years with Saramil Snape was nothing unexpected.

"And it would probably prevent me from getting a headache", Zamanirr added silkily. Something he had learned both from Lucius, his adoptive father, and Saramil Snape.

"Lo, Zamanirr", a familiar voice called out and a redhead appeared into the doorway.

"And Malfoy", added an identical voice to the first.

The Weasley twins dropped themselves onto the same seat with the adopted Malfoy.

A small, mischievous smile rose to the elf's angular face. "I'm a Malfoy, too, if you can recall."

"Perhaps."

"But we can't blame you for that."

"What's gotten into him?" Fred asked, gazing at Draco curiously.

"He looks like someone has just told him to go and make love with Hermione..."

"...And not to fight with her."

The younger Malfoy just gaped at them. Then he blushed.

"Aww." George watched with interest as the red colour spread itself across the milky white complexion.

"How cute", Fred pointed out in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Too bad we don't have a camera with us."

"You didn't actually happen to tell him to do just that, did you?" Fred asked when the thought crossed him.

"We mean about Hermione", the twins clarified in unison.

Zamanirr nodded quietly, amused both by the twins and Draco's reaction. It was interesting to see the redness on the boy's complexion. 'I wonder, is he red all over?'

The blond groaned, and marched out of the cabin.

And ran right into someone.

Hermione Granger.

Draco blushed to an even deeper red. 'Why her, of all people?'

Chocolate brown eyes glanced up at him with small interest, before the Gryffindor proceeded on her way.

'What was that about? She didn't say a word', the flushing boy wondered, gazing after the Gryffindor girl, 'Usually she gets all huffy if someone runs straight into her.'

Gred and Forge stuck their heads out the door on either side of Draco. Fred let out a completely unmasculine giggle as they watched Granger's robes disappear into a cabin further down.

"Hey, George, I think he likes her." Fred grinned ear to ear and George thumped Draco hard on the back, almost knocking him down."

"Awh", George theatrically whipped at his eye. "If they get married, it would be like having an evil little brother – what since mum's practically made the Grangers part of the family."

Fred frowned. "We already have Percy."

Zamanirr snorted as Draco's expression turned dark. "You two had best be a tad more careful about upsetting him. He's liable to do something permanent this time."

The twins rolled their eyes and shoved Draco into the hall, closing the door behind them. "We don't have to worry about that. Now, what are we going to do to terrorize Filch this year, dear friend?"

tbc...

* * *

Thanks for reviews. Really appreciated.

Oh, really, to threaten me with the teletubbies was a bit too much. They are so pointless, one would learn about 500 words in ten years by watching that show, or less. smirk Thanks, anyway.

Of course without Saavik13, this chapter would not exist.

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form...


	15. Idling around gets you nowhere

Author (co-written): Sigil Dagger and Saavik13

Parings: Harry/Lucius, Draco/Hermione (mentionings), Draco/Severus, OC/OC

**All gold does not glister**

---------------------------------------- 

**Chapter 15**

Idling around gets you nowhere 

---------------------------------------- 

#Hogwarts, the Snape living areas# 

_Draco:_

I let my thoughts flow, lying on my bed. Where was Harry? What was my father planning? Could this thing between Severus and I be something more than just sex? And what about the up coming new school year? 

A gentle nudge to my rips awakened me from my thoughts. "Draco?" 

I turned my head and found Mil – as I called Saramil – beside me. "Yes?" 

"Are you all right?" 

I nodded: "Yes", and ran my fingers through his soft long hair. For a moment we just lay there, mirth dancing in Mil's thunder-like eyes, my thoughts somewhere else. He didn't mind. Because he was in love with my brother Zamanirr. 

I knew he loved me too, not as a lover, but as a friend. And it's fine with me, because I too loved him as a friend. Though, we have been lovers occasionally since our third year. Rather a normal thing in Slytherin. 

Mil loved touching, he NEEDED it. Which isn't normal to admit to in Slytherin, but all too common. And I guess that was the most important reason why he had slept with so many people. Not yet including my brother Zamanirr. Though, something tells me, Mil will stay with him, and him only, when Mil finally gets him. 

"Why don't you just seduce my brother?" I blurted out, my hand still in his hair. Very un-Malfoy-ish of me, not that Mil would actually care about that. 

He turned his head towards me, humour dancing in his large eyes. His amusement surprised me. 

"Actually, I tried. On our first year. He considered me a child and took it as a joke, so I decided to wait for a while. Wait till he comes to me", Mil said calmly, his narrow lips smiling. "That was actually _nhara_'s idea. Though, father seconded it." 

I noticed that he again used his father's nickname. It had started out as a way to make it easier on Severus, but now it seemed more like a habit for my friend – especially if the topic was unpleasant in some way. Our Head of House didn't exactly like his first name - which I can't seriously understand, he has a fine name. Mil and Dray – Mil's _nhara_, who gave birth to him – were the only ones who could call him Sev and live to tell the tale. Well, now it was just Mil who could, since Draylaner had passed away. 

Everybody had been in shock, when Saramil Snape had suddenly appeared five years ago at Hogwarts, including Professor Snape himself, though he didn't really show it. The shock had been even bigger when they had announced that Mil had two fathers, and no mother. Mil called Draylaner his _nhara_, and Severus his father, or Sev, as it some times went. 

"But... You were a child in our first year!" I pointed out, very intelligently, after I stopped trying to analyze the situation logically. 

He laughed softly, stroking my cheek with his hand. "No, I was not. Just before we came here I was recognized as a grown up elf, no longer an elfling. The moon had influenced me two times before that, as it is customary among the Kae-Enathe elves. I was not happy because of Zamanirr's decision, but I was able to handle it. I go with the flow, mostly, as you should know by now." 

I watched his feline-like features and grabbed his hand. Studying his long fingernails with interest. He had used some wizard nail polish, which made them look like they were made of silver. 

"What's with the nails?" I asked, curious. 

"I was bored", he said, sighing. 

"Bored? You grew yourself long nails and polished them 'cause you were bored? Why can't I see any logic in that?" 

"It took only an hour", Mil explained, smirking. He could be really good at that, when he wanted to. 

Oh yes, I had forgotten. He was a shape-shifter, just like his _nhara_ had been. And they were, as all Kae-Enathe elves, also able to make their skin or nails or things like that grow faster – or heal for that matter – than was humanly possible. But they weren't humans, which kind of explained it. Besides the drop of human blood, from Snape, Mil had elf blood, and according to him, also some feline blood. Which explained Mil's love to change into any cat shape. 

It was late and we snuggled down in my bed without my trying to force any more sense out of my friend. It was a habit of ours, sleeping in the same bed, from the first year at Hogwarts. It made the both of us feel less lonely. 

"G'night, Mil." 

"Night, Draco." 

---

Saramil was preparing breakfast, humming to himself, moves precise and sure. Cooking always calmed him. The delicate half-elf liked cooking and had made a deal with the House-Elves: they would let him make breakfast for his family and he would let them do the rest. 

When Zamanirr finally appeared at the entrance of the kitchen in the Snape living quarters, he immediately got a lapful of happy and energetic Saramil. 

"So good to see you", Saramil murmured to the dark elf, after having leapt on him. The half-elf's legs wrapped tightly around his waist and Zamanirr just hmm-ed and sat down on the nearest chair. He was strong but knew the other had no intention of letting go in the near future, and he had no real defence against the treatment, especially as he'd known to expect it. Though, had they been somewhere public, he would have tried, even if it would have been just for appearances. 

Saramil purred with contentment, he was partly feline anyway. 

After a moment Severus stalked into the kitchen: he wanted his morning coffee, badly. Ignoring the elf pair, he proceeded to help himself with his daily caffeine intake, pretending his son wasn't wrapped around his friend's adopted son at 8 o'clock in the morning. 

"Sir, I believe I have found Harry", Zamanirr reported. 

"Where is he then?" Severus inquired, sipping his coffee after placing himself across from the two boys. 

"In Muggle London. He's been on the streets for most of the time, according to the information I received. Though he hasn't been sighted very often. You are looking for him, correct?" 

"Indeed." The Potions Master breathed in the strong aroma from his cup. "What else did you found out?" 

"He goes apparently under the name Halcyon and he works for Madam in one way or another, as her underlings refused to tell me where I could find him. My source knew Harry and probably could have given some information as to where to find him", Zamanirr shrugged. "But he was under direct orders not to give that kind of information without permission. Which did not surprise me as it is quite common amongst the organised people of streets." 

"Madam?" 

"She is one of London's crime leaders. I know her, to a certain point, and she knows me as well", the dark elf replied. The rather not-so-pleasant sneer that accompanied the comment left little doubt about what the two might think of one another. Of course, being raised by Malfoys, the sneer could be a look of fondness. Or it could have been the same one Zamanirr had as his "normal facial expression", the Potions Master never quite knew for sure. 

Severus lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. "So, will you be able to get this Madam to give you more information?" 

Zamanirr pushed Saramil away from his lap; he had had enough of the closeness. The small half-elf pouted, but complied with the less-of-a-request-and-more-of-a-demand gesture. 

"If I can take Saramil with me. He needs to make up some good reasons for us to be looking for Harry, who just happens to be Madam's Halcyon. She is fiercely protective of her property." 

"I see what you mean, Mr. Malfoy." Merlin knew the dark elf had been in enough trouble with the Potions Master for Severus to know Zamanir was no good with witty explanations. Though, he had surprisingly rarely gotten caught after pulling a prank with the Weasley twins or creating some other kind of nuisance. "Are the two of you going to manage, or will you need some assistance?" 

"I believe we will manage. If not, we will let you know, father, you know that." 

Un-continued... 

---------- 

IMPORTANT AUTHOURS NOTE: 

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story, and showed their support. Your words have meant more to me than I can ever express. However, I need to face the facts and abandon this story, as I can't see where it is heading anymore. Or rather, I am not able to take it there. 

BECAUSE of that, I would like to offer this story and any notes I have made to a person willing to CONTINUE THIS STORY. I don't even mind some changes occurring and can lend my support and what ever else they might what of me. So, let me know IF YOU WISH TO CONTINUE THIS STORY ON YOUR OWN. You can reach me either through reviewing this chapter or by e-mail: sigildagger (at) JUST title your e-mail with the title of this story. 

Of course a thank-you must be sent to the best beta ever, Saavik13. I will ever be grateful, thank you. 

Tell me what you think. Any ideas are welcomed. Any shape and form... 

Regretfully yours, 

Sigil Dagger 


End file.
